Tempestuous Time Bomb
by PteraWaters
Summary: Angel and Spike try to keep their relationship a secret while dealing with an ever more erratic human Illyria. They must keep the ex-demon happy while they try to understand her new powers and find some way to get Fred back. After 'Origin of the Lies'.
1. Part 1

_A/N: Welcome back to my Angel/Spike series! If you'd like to read everything chronologically, this is the order: A Different Hole in the World, Underneath the Grief, Origin of the Lies, and finally this one - Tempestuous Time Bomb. All you really need to know is that Spike gets visions from the Powers that Be and he and Angel are in a young, but well established relationship.  
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_I haven't finished this episode yet, so the updates won't be every day, but I'll try to stick to an every other day schedule. There's so much to do before the holidays, hopefully I can keep up! I'm also still working on 'The Prizefighter' and 'The Brothers in the House', so updates on those stories are in the works as well.  
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Tempestuous Time Bomb – Part 1

Spike, Lorne, and I sat around the conference table outside the records room, going through all the papers and all the decisions we needed to make on a daily basis. Harmony sat at the table too, but she wasn't really helping so much as she was pretending to work. Spike was actually pitching in, which I found really surprising. He read reports, and made decisions that I agreed with more often than not. Where had this side of him been hiding?

As we sat in silence, I read a report about some trial we were involved in. I tried to figure out what was going on, but eventually gave up, growling in frustration. "This is impossible!" I yelled, throwing the case file down onto the table. "We need to get Gunn back."

"How?" Spike asked. "Charlie wouldn't want us putting some poor bloke down there in his place, Ange."

Fred walked into the room then, her carriage too graceful and too powerful. "Illyria," I nodded at her in greeting. We hadn't actually seen Fred since she got her memories back from that sorcerer, Cyrus Vale, a few weeks ago.

"Heyyy, cupcake," Lorne said gently, his voice colored with nervousness. At least_ he_ had forgiven me for allowing Wolfram and Hart to erase his memories of Connor. He'd even gone as far as telling me he wished he hadn't gotten them back.

The human who thought she was a demon just stood there, looking at us one at a time. Her eyes seemed to shift back and forth between their normal brown and a bluish hazel, which I found really disturbing.

Eventually Spike spoke up. "What do you want, Lyrie?"

"I heard your king speak of the dark-skinned one, half-breed. The entity you called Fred desires his safety."

"Yeah, well that's what we all want," sighed Lorne.

"Right," I nodded. "In a perfect world, Gunn would be here, helping us make sense of all this crap. But it's not a perfect world, Illyria. Get used to it."

Illyria screwed up her face in disgust, an unusual level of expression coming from her. "I despise your tone, Angel."

"Believe me, the feeling's mutual."

Without further ado, Illyria left, stalking from the room and leaving a group of annoyed demons in her wake. Why didn't I have any humans left? Wes died, Fred was possessed, and Gunn was stuck in a hell dimension we couldn't get him out of. Yet again I cursed myself for being lured into this fucking job.

"Ugh!" protested Harmony, getting up and moving toward me as she kept her eyes on the door where Fred had left. "That bitch!" She put her hand on my shoulder, massaging the muscles, "Are you okay, Boss?"

I looked up at her, slightly confused about her motives when Spike said, "Oi! Bint! Hands off the merchandise." His tone was protective and a little jealous, which made me smile slightly. As if Harmony was a threat to him…

"Geez, Spike," she said, backing off and holding her hands up defensively. "I was just being nice."

"Go be nice to someone else," he snarled, purposely snapping his attention back to the report in his hands and ignoring her until she left.

"Okay, guys," said Lorne, tipping back the rest of his Sea breeze. "The tension in here is killing me. I need some air. I think I'll go talk to that demon contact I told you about."

"Yeah, okay Lorne," I said, closing more of the folders in front of me. "We'll talk about that case when you get back?" When he nodded I said, "I'll be in my office by then."

"See you in a few, Angel hair." He nodded to the other vampire, "Spike."

* * *

  
As we walked down the hallway later that night, I yelled, "Hey, Angel. Wait up, you pillock."

"Spike," Angel replied, "for future reference – insulting someone isn't the best way to get them to honor your request."

"Ooh, listen to the big man," I mocked, "all full of important bits of wisdom. If you're so smart, how do you suggest I get you to _honor my request_?" I said these last few words in a stuffy voice, not unlike how Giles speaks all the time.

Angel looked at me wordlessly, a lecherous glint in his eye. As we reached his office, I closed the door behind us.

"All in good time," I replied to his suggestion.

Angel smiled and fell into the big chair behind his desk, stowing some files in one of the drawers. "Did you just want to follow me in here, or did you have something you wanted to discuss?"

"It's late, pet. Can't we go upstairs?"

"Ugh," groaned Angel, rubbing his face with his hands. "I wish I could, hon. I only have a few minutes before Lorne gets back with that intel from his contact in that disruptive demon clan. We've got to go over it and decide what needs to be done. If you want, you could give us a hand?"

"Yeah, sure, luv. If you're not comin' up for a while, I'd rather not go to bed alone." I sat down on the desk almost in front of him and leaned down to kiss Angel, briefly. "But there was somethin' I wanted to bend your ear about, if you'll let me."

"Yeah?" he asked, taking my legs in his hands and planting my feet on either side of his hips in the chair. He ran his hands up and down my calves, looking up at me. I love this casual touching; it's so calming and exhilarating at the same time. "What's on your mind?"

"Well..." Hmm. How to put this? Instead of speaking, I pulled a wrapped up length of white silk chord from my pocket and held it out to him.

"What's this?" he asked, taking it from me. "Rope?"

I nodded, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Oh." Angel turned the bundle over in his hands. "Look, Spike," he started, trying to hand the chord back to me. Oh, here we go with the Mr. Thinks He's Too Good crap. "I really don't like being –"

"No, you moron," I interrupted, pushing the rope back at him. "It's for me, yeah?"

"Oh," he frowned. Then a wicked smile crept onto his face, "Oh."

"You'll do it?"

"If you want..." Oh, God. He said yes. I could already imagine Angel putting that rope to good use, already feeling the bite of the cord around my wrists. I smiled, leaning in to kiss him. I knew the sadistic part of him was still in there, hiding behind his soul. He liked holding me down, it only followed that he'd like to tie me down as well. I wondered briefly if those tendencies had been there before he died. It would explain a lot. A thrill ran up my center and my body ached for him to touch more than my calves.

As I pulled back from the kiss, Angel clapped a hand on the back of my neck and squeezed. Oh, bloody hell. My whole body tried to go limp on me and I struggled to stay perched on the desk above Angel.

"Hmm," he smiled. "That still works, huh?"

I tried to fight it, tried to make my voice defiant, and failed miserably. "You're still my grandsire, aren't ya?"

"Mmm," he hummed in agreement, easing up on the pressure and massaging my neck with his hand. I could smell him getting turned on, catching up with me. Good.

But then he released me, pushing back from the desk and standing up.

"What's wrong?"

"Like I said, Spike, Lorne will be here in a minute. And he already knows _way_ too much about us, so let's not start anything we can't finish."

I stood up, joining him. "Later, though?"

Angel smiled, bending so he could whisper in my ear. "Later, I'm going to tie you down, stretching your whole body taut. I'm going drink your blood and run my fingers over every inch of your trembling skin until you beg me to fuck you."

I shuddered, his words speaking to the aching need that went all the way down to my bones. I leaned in, pressing my whole body against him. "Is it gonna hurt?"

"Only if you don't cooperate." He pulled me closer, slipping his hand under my coat, and dug his fingers into the flesh at my hip. I hissed at the pain, needing more. Needing him. So much for not starting anything.

"I never was very good at taking orders."

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	2. Part 2

Tempestuous Time Bomb – Part 2

Hearing my office door open, I jumped back from Spike and the delicious moment between us died. Lorne and Fred – or rather, Illyria from the look of things – walked in, Gunn slung between them. Spike and I both moved to help them with the nearly unconscious Gunn.

"Hey, kids," chimed Lorne, handing one of Gunn's arms over to me. "Look who I found!"

"How?" I asked as Spike and I carried him to the couch. We had been working on ways to get Gunn out of that holding dimension for the past two weeks, finding nothing. And now he was here.

"Ask Illyria, Angelcakes. I found them in the lobby."

"Illyria?"

The demon wearing Fred's face stepped toward us from where she had stopped near the door. "You needed your warrior back. And, this shell is very fond of the dark one. I took care of it."

"How? Who took his place?"

"The torture demon. It was quite a stupid lower being."

"Can we talk to Fred, luv?" Spike asked. Since it had been so long since we'd spoken to Fred, I'd almost given up asking for her.

"Fred wanted 'Charles' back, but she still grieves for the one you call 'Wesley'. She is very vexed that bringing back the past did not resurrect the human. I told her his return was impossible, which made her relinquish control of this body. In her place, I am learning more about how this world works, now that the humans have overrun it."

"How did you overpower the torture demon?" I asked. Spike and I had tried and failed to fight that demon together. How could one little girl bring it down?

"While it's true my strength is severely limited in this body," she explained, "I have knowledge Fred does not. This shell is capable of much more than she uses it for."

"Is anyone else super creeped out by this?" asked Lorne, helping Gunn sit up.

"I know I am," the man said, groaning as he leaned back in the couch. "This thing has some insane moves. She made the demon wear its own pendant."

"Bloody brilliant," Spike murmured.

"Illyria," I said sternly, concerned about my friend who should have been the one talking to us. "Do you have any idea when Fred will be joining us?"

"I could not say. The human brain is a bizarre entity, Fred's especially. Her thoughts do not concur with this reality."

"But you can take down a torture demon by yourself?"

"It was not difficult. I am surprised you and the other half-breed failed to defeat it."

"Hey! It's not like we had much time to try, is it, luv?"

Illyria drew a sword from a scabbard I now saw was strapped to her back along her spine. "I found this weapon very useful."

I took a closer look at the sword and recognizing it, I whipped my head and eyes around to the wall behind my desk, noting a conspicuous absence. "Hey!" I cried, moving toward Illyria. "That's mine!"

Illyria slipped the sword into its scabbard and unstrapped it from her back, handing the whole apparatus to me. I hated it when people touched the weapons I kept on that wall. Of course once Spike learned this fact, he had to touch them all. I snatched the sword back from Illyria, frowning at her.

"I would like to try my hand at more modern weaponry."

Stalking back to behind my desk, I hung the sword in its proper place. When I came to the group back I sighed, "Are you asking me for something, Illyria?"

"I would like to know more about these things Fred calls 'guns'. Were they named after your warrior?"

"No," the lawyer laughed quietly. "I'm pretty sure it was the other way around, cupcake."

"How about this," I mollified her, "let us test the extent of your abilities with less modern weapons, and then we'll see about guns." If Illyria was going to be around from now on, I really needed to know more about her. What could a demon's memory and personality do to Fred's body if she pushed it too hard? If she picked a fight that couldn't be won.

"I do not bend to your whim, half-breed. I was God to a god. I brought you back your trapped warrior. You _will_ give me the information I seek."

"Listen to me, princess," I said in my frustrated voice, pointing a finger at her angrily, trying to put out of my mind that little bit of gratitude I felt toward her for bringing back Gunn. "This is my kingdom. While you're in it, you will do as I say!"

Spike jumped in. "Hey," he said, putting himself between the two of us. "Angel. Boss? How about I help Illyria with the tests? You'd like that, wouldn't you, pet? We'll figure out exactly what you can do in that new body. And then, I'm sure Angel will let us get you to a shootin' range. Won't ya, Ange?"

"Fine. Whatever. You can start in the morning."

"I wish to start now."

"Spike?" I looked at him wistfully. I wanted him so much, I wanted to tie him up and have my way with him. I needed to taste his blood, and I already had some ideas in mind for how to liberate it from behind his skin. But I couldn't. Not at that moment, anyway. "Lorne and I still have that info to go over. Gunn, we should get you back to your place so you can rest."

"No, thanks, Angel," he said, sitting up. "I'd rather stay and help."

I gave him a long calculating look, "If you're up to it ..."

Gunn nodded and I turned back to Spike. "Could you take Illyria to the training room and get a basic handle on what she's capable of: strength, speed, and so on?"

"For how long?" I could tell he wanted me even more than I wanted him and I was glad there weren't any other vampires around. The lustful scent pouring off his skin was just for me.

"Let's start with half an hour and you can do more tomorrow. Why don't you two get going? I'll see you, Spike, afterward."

"Come along, half-breed," she said, turning on her heel and stalking out.

Spike waved goodbye to the rest of us and followed the crazy thing that looked like Fred out of the office and up the stairs toward the lab and the training room.

* * *

"C'mon, Lyrie," I taunted the beast wearing Fred's face. "Gimme what you got."

"I have much violence to give, half-breed."

"Well, alright then, luv," I said, keeping light on my feet as I circled her. She just stood in the center of the training room, watching me with that odd tilt to her head. Because I was testing her strength, I had to let her make the first move, yeah? The longer I danced around her, the longer she stared, watching. Analyzing. Fuck that.

Without warning, I moved in for a rounding kick, making it as fast as I could, but she dodged it easily, bending backward in a way most creatures cannot do whilst keeping their balance. I was so in awe of her dodge that I didn't notice her fist barreling into my face until it was too late to do anything about it. The girl hit me like a Mack truck, sending me flying across the room.

"Bloody hell, pet!" I said as I recovered. "You hit almost as hard as Angel."

"I found that enjoyable," she replied. "I would like to hit you again."

"Just a sec, luv. Got to write that down on me clipboard." I grabbed up said clipboard and wrote out my findings. "You didn't bust your hand, hitting me like that? Any human would have broken a few bones with all that force."

"My skeletal structure is intact."

"Right," I nodded, scribbling that down as well. So far all I knew was that Illyria was scary strong. "Are you using magics, pet? Is that how you've made a human body so much better?"

"If bending the physical rules of your dimension counts as magic, then yes. I have used Fred's knowledge of this discipline you call physics to alter my reality."

"Woah, there, sweets," I said, astonished. "Does that mean you can make yourself as strong and as fast and as invincible as you want?"

"Whatever I _can_ will to be true, _is_ true. My powers are greatly diminished in this host, however. I find the limitation quite vexing."

"Let me ask you this, pet," I said, setting the clipboard back down on a bench. "Is this limitation the only reason I'm still alive?"

"You are alive because I wish it to be so."

"Fred in there yet? Stilling your hand?"

"Fred is, for all intents and purposes, gone." She stepped toward me, eyes going bluer as she moved. Fuck me, that was creepy. "You had much affection for this shell, Spike?"

I think that was the first time she'd ever addressed me using my name. As she moved closer, I told her, "Tons. Loved the bird." I sniffed, warming up to have another go at her when she tilted her head again.

"I find that I do not detest your company. And hitting you is most satisfactory."

"Yeah, thanks, pet. It's such a burden lifted, knowing you like me, Illyria. I'll sleep so much better now."

"Living in this shell," she told me, "I find myself influenced by these despicable feelings."

"It's called bein' human, luv."

"I have very strong feelings for you. I would like to explore this physical impulse further." Illyria advanced on me a step as I caught her meaning.

I jumped back from her. "Bloody hell, Illyria!" She followed me, still observing me with that tilted head. "Not that I'm not flattered, pet. Because I am, but besides the fact that you give me a major case of the willies, I don't think Angel would like it if I...gave you what you want." I started backing towards the door, keeping my eyes on her.

"Because he is your king, or because he is your lover?"

Wait, how did she know about that second part? I suppose Angel and I hadn't been excessively careful lately, since Lorne and Harmony already knew, but he really didn't want the Senior Partners finding out about us. Maybe Harmony, that daft bint, told her. "Uh, both reasons."

"Your human culture places an inordinate amount of importance on fidelity. When I ruled this land, we simply took what we wanted, if we were strong enough."

She advanced on me again and I managed to get a knee into her ribs before I ducked away. "Well, you're not takin' me!" She tried hitting me back, and she moved faster than seemed possible, but I managed to roll away before hopping back up onto my feet. "Illyria! I'll tell Angel he shouldn't let you learn about modern weapons. If you're gonna be part of the team, you have to gain our trust by behaving yourself. And that means leaving me alone if I tell you to!"

She drew back her balled fists and relaxed. "Fine, I will honor your wishes."

"Brilliant," I breathed a sigh, relieved that she could still be reasoned with and persuaded. "Can we continue this testing in the morning, pet? I need a few hours to get that creepy look you're giving me out of my brain, preferably by liberal application of alcohol."

"If you are tired, half-breed, I will give you time to recover before we continue."

"Thanks, Illyria. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

She nodded and turned away, leaving the room abruptly.

I gave her a good head start before I left the training room, going straight for Angel's office. When I got there, I found Lorne and Gunn still keeping Angel busy. Flopping down in the chair next to him, I propped my feet up on the table and sighed.

"Spike," Angel said, looking at his watch. "It's only been twenty minutes. What happened?"

"Illyria told me she's bending the laws of physics using magics to make herself stronger."

"Makes sense," said Gunn, "with all that knowledge of physics…"

"I'm sure having a demon's memory helps with the magic," Lorne pointed out.

"Yeah, so she's doin' her magic thing, beating me to a pulp," I told them. "And then she started chattin' me up, yeah?"

"Wait," said Angel, "she propositioned you?"

"Yeah, mate," I said, nodding and noticing the slight hint of jealousy in Angel's eyes. "Said she liked me and had a physical impulse she wanted to explore."

"And what did you do, Spike?" Gunn asked, his voice implying he assumed I would have taken her up on the offer.

"I said thanks, but no thanks, Charlie-boy. Of course," I assured him. "I mean, that's still Fred's body she's in. Ugh." I shuddered.

"Hey!" cried Gunn. "Fred is beautiful!"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I know. But Illyria using her body like that? I'm no bloody rapist, mate." Not anymore, I thought with a pained shudder.

"Oh," he breathed, mollified.

"'Sides, Illyria really creeps me out." I turned to Angel. "I told her I was under your protection, pet. That if she tried to force the issue, you wouldn't teach her about modern weapons."

"Yeah," Angel said, his gaze flicking to Gunn and back as he said, "that's fine, Spike. And don't call me 'pet'."

"Oh," I said, realizing the lawyer was the only one in the room who didn't know about us, "right. Is it still okay if I crash on your couch?" I pointed upstairs with my thumb.

"I guess," he agreed grudgingly, getting a raised eyebrow from Lorne. Of course the psychic demon had known about me and Angel from almost the beginning. "Just don't drink all the blood this time, okay?"

"Why not?" I asked, sullenly. "You always have the good stuff."

"Because it's mine. Do you want to sleep out on the street?"

"Fine," I huffed, knowing full well Harmony had stocked the fridge just that morning with separate supplies for both of us. It was just fun to argue with him. His jaw gets all clenched and his nostrils flare, which I think is hilarious.

"I'll be up in a few minutes," he called as I left the conference room. "Try not to break anything in the meantime."

"Aye-aye, Captain," I shouted back, saluting sarcastically. Before I went upstairs, I swear I heard him laugh. Ha! Good on me.

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A/N: Reviews are awesome!_


	3. Part 3

Tempestuous Time Bomb - Part 3

After taking a few swallows of Angel's blood supply – purely on principal, you understand – I made my way into the bedroom. Maybe I could get a little shut-eye before Angel came back and wanted to get vigorous. However, I was still unlacing and pulling off my boots when he came up, hands in his pockets.

"That was quite the performance," he said with a smile.

"Who says I was performing?" I asked him, a wicked grin on my lips as I collapsed back onto the bed.

"Spike!" he growled, pulling me by one arm across the bed so he could kiss me. His tongue invaded my mouth, tasting me thoroughly. "I told you not to touch my blood," he snarled, his grip on my arm painfully tight.

"And I told you I wasn't good at taking orders, luv," I smirked.

Angel pulled me around by the arm, straddling my legs and sitting me up. He twisted first one and then the other arm behind my back, pulling me close to his chest. After sparring with Illyria, I didn't really have the energy to fight back, but I struggled for him a bit. "You're going to pay for your disobedience, Spike."

"Yeah?" I smiled, kissing him harshly. "I'd like to see you try, you bloody wanker."

Angel kissed me again and instead of fighting him or talking back, I returned his kisses, trying to crawl into him through his mouth. He held me closer as we devoured each other, grinding his hips against mine. I was glad for the intensity, not just because I enjoy a nice hot shaggin', but also because I wanted Angel to erase the memory of Illyria's come ons from my skin and my brain. I only wanted him. Only him.

We got so intense so quickly that neither of us heard Gunn approach until he was already in the room and gasping. "Oh!"

Angel just sort of looked up at him, open mouthed in shock.

"Oh, my god," Gunn breathed, covering his eyes with a hand. "I'm just gonna pretend I didn't see that, or I might have to scour my brain and bleach my eyes when I get home."

I moved to stand, dumping Angel from my lap as best I could. After a second the git caught my drift and snapped out of his shock and shifted away so I could get up. Angel stood far, far away from me and readjusted his pants before he cleared his throat and said, "Gunn? What brings you up here?"

"Is it safe to look?"

"Yeah, you big baby," I snarled. "It's safe."

Gunn removed his hand from his eyes and visibly relaxed when he saw us separated. "Right. I came up to...ah, screw it. How long has this been goin' on?"

"I don't know if it's really any of your business, Gunn," Angel growled.

"It _is_ my business, Angel, or have you forgotten what tends to happen when you get hot and heavy with someone?"

"I'm not evil! And that only really happened once."

"He's not Angelus, Charlie," I insisted. "We've been doin' this for almost six weeks, souls still intact."

Gunn looked to Angel for confirmation, but the git just crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. "See," I continued, "I just don't make him that happy."

Angel shot me an argumentative look. Was he telling me I _did_ make him happy?

"Okay, too much information, man," Gunn said. "If you say he's still Angel, I'm gonna believe you on that one, for now." He shivered, and I gave him a critical look. "Sorry, I'm just a little skeeved out, Spike. Why didn't you guys tell me?"

"Besides that look you're giving us?" Angel asked. "We didn't want it getting back to the Senior Partners and the fewer people who knew, the better."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Lorne figured it out when motormouth over here started singing at the funeral," Angel pointed a thumb towards me. "And before that, Spike told Harmony."

"Hey, she smelled you on me and started asking all these questions. I had to tell her."

"But that's it?" asked Gunn.

"Actually, Illyria figured it out somehow, too," I told them.

"Illyria knows, and she still tried to hit on you?" Angel asked, and the jealousy in his voice made me smile.

"Yeah, pet," I said, moving closer toward him. "What can I say? Everyone wants me."

"Uh," scoffed Gunn, raising a hand. "I beg to differ."

"Really?" I asked, giving him a playful pout and a tilt of my head. "You sure about that?"

"Spike!" Angel said, grabbing me in a headlock. "Quit flirting with my friends."

"I can flirt with whoever I want, you fat, ugly moron," I yelled back, trying to break his hold 'round my neck. Angel laughed and squeezed harder, damn him. Sometimes I hate it when he gets the jump on me.

"Enough!" cried Gunn. "Will you two quit the foreplay so I can tell you what I need to tell you?"

Angel dropped me so suddenly that I fell to the floor, almost hitting my face on the carpet. "Oi!" I complained as I started to get back up, but Gunn was already talking.

"I think Illyria is dangerous. You two didn't see her in that dungeon, fighting that torture demon. Now, I know I was out of it, but I could swear she pulled some sort of teleportation move on the guy."

"Teleportation?" Angel asked skeptically.

"Yeah, one second she's here, the next she on the other side of the room."

"She did tell me tonight, while we were sparring, that Fred's knowledge of physics has come in handy. She's basing her magics on that knowledge."

"Including," said Gunn, "all that quantor particle mumbo jumbo."

"Spike," Angel turned to me, putting a hand on my arm, which I enjoyed immensely, "just after we got back from England, how did you say Knox escaped from the building?"

"He just disappeared, pet. 'Poof'. No sound, barely any smell, no movement. Harm and I just turned around and he was gone."

"Are you thinking she's used this trick before?" asked Gunn, watching Angel's hand trail unconsciously down my arm to my hand.

Angel squeezed my hand as he sighed. "Yeah, Gunn. That's exactly what I was thinking. She teleports Knox out of the room, and to her temple."

"But," I said, "if the bint did pull a Houdini, why was there a scent trail? I'm tellin' ya, it was fairly continuous from where we had 'im tied up to where he left the building."

"And no one saw or heard anything?" Gunn gave an annoyed noise when I nodded. "This sort of problem is exactly why we had Wes and Fred. All the science is makin' my brain hurt."

"But Fred's gone off to la la land," cried Angel, dropping my hand as his rose in frustration. "And Wes is dead."

"So that's it then, lads? We're fucked?"

"Pretty much," said Gunn. "We'll have to make nice with the demon in Fred's brain until we can figure out how to get rid of it."

Angel nodded. "When I see Lorne in the morning, I'll lean on him about his psychic contacts. Someone should be able to get Illyria out, right?"

"I'm sure they can, luv," I said, running a hand down his back.

"You up for a little demon wrangling, hon?" he asked me. "Try to keep her happy until we can get Fred back?"

"I think we all know how she'd like to be kept happy," Gunn suggested, eyebrows raised in my direction.

"Oi! I'm a one demon man, thanks ever so. 'Sides, Illyria is fucking creepy. The way she looks at you with those wide, almost-blue eyes? No thank you, sir. And then she goes and says how in her day they all just took what they wanted if they were strong enough. Had to hide behind Angel for protection, which I'm not proud of, yeah?"

"I'm just saying, Spike. For the greater good, you might just have to take one for the team."

"Okay," Angel got between us. "Why don't you go, Gunn? We all agree that Illyria is a problem, but there's nothing we can do about it until tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay, Angel," Gunn acquiesced, turning to leave. "But, can you do me a favor and lock the door if somthin's goin' on in here?"

"Definitely," he agreed, following Gunn halfway out toward the lift, and then locking the door when he came back to the bedroom. "Ugh," he said, sitting on the bed next to me, "that wasn't how I wanted him to find out."

"You wanted him to find out at all?"

"Eventually, yeah," he said, taking one of my hands in his, looking at them. "Illyria really threatened to take you from me?"

"Not in so many words, luv," I said, leaning into him, "but yeah."

"I won't let that happen, sunshine," he said, kissing my hair. 'Sunshine'? He'd only ever called me that ironically. And he actually wanted his friends to know about us, eventually. But eventually is better than never, yeah?

I sighed. "I hate needing your protection. I hate needing anyone's protection."

"I know, hon. I know. It's just, she thinks I'm the king here. As long as she keeps thinking that, she won't touch what's mine."

"And I'm yours, pet?" I knew it was a dangerous question, but I couldn't help asking it. I had to know if he wanted me as much as I wanted him, and not just in the sack.

"Well, technically you are," he hedged, keeping his head down, looking at my hand in his. "Since I'm your sire, or grandsire, whatever."

"Untechnically?"

"I suppose so, yeah," he relented. "I'm glad you didn't take Illyria up on her offer, the whole using Fred's body thing beside the point."

"So if someone hot approaches me on the street and makes a similar proposition, you'd rather I turned them down?"

He chuckled, putting one arm around my shoulders. "Yeah, I think I'd rather have you all to myself."

Overjoyed, I said, "Ange, did anyone ever tell you you're a greedy bastard?"

He laughed again, pushing me down onto my back and kissing me thoroughly. "You're the one who got all jealous earlier, downstairs. And besides, we both know I won't be seeing anyone else."

"You gotta stick with what works, mate," I agreed. "Especially if you can't get laid without maybe goin' crazy."

"Do _you_ wanna get laid?" he asked. "Or do you just wanna talk all night?"

I chuckled, smiling at him with my tongue between my teeth. "You know, I'm pretty sure I'm capable of both at once."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," he growled, pulling the rope I'd given him from his pocket and unspooling it wickedly.

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_A/N: The next chapter is all smut, and there's some blood involved. If that squicks you out, go ahead and skip to the chapter after next._

_Also, reviews and/or comments, please!  
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	4. Part 4

_A/N: **Warning**: There's some__ cutting and__ blood in this smut chapter because, hey, it's about demons. If any of those things gross you out, skip on ahead to the next chapter (though you might be missing some important relationship developments)...  
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Tempestuous Time Bomb – Part 4

Angel gathered the rope in his hands, as if he were trying to decide what to do with it. In a flash, he got up and left the bedroom, coming back with a small knife in his fist. As he cut the rope in half, he asked, "Do you trust me?"

"Only as far as I can throw you, luv," I lied, deliberately taunting him. Hey, it's one of my favorite pastimes.

"You could throw me pretty far if you wanted to," he pointed out.

"I meant what I said."

Angel tied a complicated knot in the rope as he approached me, setting the knife down on the nightstand. "What are you going to say if you want me to stop?"

Dear god, he was getting to me already, making me practically pant with need. As he grabbed one of my arms and slipped the rope around my wrist, I whispered, "Goldfish."

While Angel nodded that he'd heard me, he wound the rope around the headboard and toward the other side, and I just sat there, trembling. Normally I like fighting him a bit. But not tonight. Tonight I let him tie my arms to either side of the bed without so much as a muttered insult.

When he was done with my arms, Angel kissed me, nipping at my bottom lip with blunt teeth, harder and harder until I cried out. As he released, a slow trickle of blood escaped from the soft flesh of my inner lip, which he sucked from me with a groan. Then, he was moving downward and undoing my pants, pulling them from me, exposing my bits to the air.

Without a word, Angel used the other half of the rope to tie my ankles together and to the foot of the bed, stretching me just so my joints popped a bit and I couldn't move. The bite of the ropes and the pressure on my whole body had me shuddering uncontrollably. Angel acted like he knew exactly what he was doing, but I was confused why he'd tie my legs together. Didn't seem right, if he was planning on fucking me like I wanted him to.

I looked up at him, noticing how he was practically salivating over the sight of me trussed up like this. Oh, his demon wanted to play, definitely. Angel kept his eyes on me as he stripped off his shirt and pants, hanging them carefully on a clothes bar. Still clad in his boxers, he joined me in bed, picking up the knife again.

Angel's fingers were trembling as he slipped them under the hem of my shirt, pulling the fabric taut so the knife could slide through without a hitch. The rip of splitting fabric and our voiceless unneeded breaths were the only sounds breaking the silence of the room. As soon as my shirt was in enough pieces, Angel pulled it out from under me, sucking in a breath at the sight of my utter nakedness.

"So much perfect flesh," he whispered, running a hand up my belly and over my chest, brushing one nipple deliberately and pulling a strangled moan from my throat. Only then did I notice the knife still in Angel's hand.

"What ya doin' with that, Ange?" I prayed it was something that would hurt beautifully.

"Art," he muttered in response, staring at my chest like he was trying to figure out where to start.

Shuddering under his gaze, I asked, "Makin' me a canvas?"

"Making you _mine_," he replied, drawing the tip of the knife across my skin very carefully, just barely scratching the surface.

Hissing at the burning sharp pain, I told him, "I'm already yours."

"That you are," he said absently, concentrating on the pattern he was making, a perfect spiral directly over my dead heart. I fought the urge to whimper whenever the knife dipped particularly low into my flesh, biting harshly before Angel corrected his aim. Some part of me, deep down in my bones, reveled in the pain radiating from the cuts, drinking it in and turning it out again as raw and exhilarating desire.

"Does it hurt?" Angel asked as he started a matching pattern on the other side.

"Just enough," I whispered, watching his face as he cut into me. He looked almost lost in concentration and so calm. Glancing down at my chest, I watched as he finished that spiral and started in on another set of geometric shapes and curling curves further down. When he shifted backwards, he sat directly on my stiff cock, pressing it against my belly. I wanted to thrust up against him, to slake the yearning he was inciting in me with every stroke of his knife, but I was tied too tightly to allow more than a very shallow rocking of my hips.

"Stay still, precious," he scolded through clenched teeth. "I don't want to stab you on accident."

"Yeah, that's a little more pain than I'm looking for," I agreed with a chuckle, trying my best to keep still under him, though my need was almost overwhelming. Angel's work started to take shape with every sweeping draw of the knife, cutting patterns up and down my chest and belly, just deep enough to hurt. The pattern looked like it had significance, so I asked, "Is it a spell? Something to keep Illyria away?"

"No," he said simply, "it just is." I shuddered when he slipped the end of the blade into his mouth, cleaning the blood away with his lips and tongue like it was a paintbrush, still concentrating on the canvas that was my chest. "You know," he said softly as he cut into me again, "I hated myself for still wanting to do this after getting my soul."

"The demon wants what it wants, luv," I replied, groaning and basking in the fiery pain blossoming all over my chest after every shallow slice and scratch of Angel's blade. "And mine isn't complainin', yeah?"

"Yeah," he mumbled as he pulled three last cuts across my belly. "There."

I looked down, inspecting his work. I was seeing them at a shallow angle, but I had to admit that the angry red lines against my pale flesh were really quite striking. Blood oozed from most of the cuts, but none were deep enough to truly bleed. "Is it bad that I find this exquisite?" he whispered, lost in the sight of his own artistry, in the unerring symmetry of the pattern.

"No, pet, it's not," I said, trying to ease some of the guilt he loves carrying around on his shoulders. "Not since I enjoyed every minute of it." I wondered how long it would take before his art was completely healed over, not even scars left over to mark this occasion.

When Angel just kept staring at my chest, I wriggled and asked him, "All done, pet?" And then, without even thinking, I was trying to thrust up against him again, to take what little pleasure I could to balance out the pain.

"With the cutting? Yes," Angel said, pulling out of his reverie and giving me that lopsided grin he gets when he's going to do something he knows will be mind-blowing. He set the knife down on the nightstand and when he settled back on me, he leaned forward, kissing me soundly and rocking his hips and cock against mine, urging a moan to escape from my lips. Then, starting where he'd begun cutting, Angel ran the tip of his tongue along the scratches of that first spiral, making his way from the center all the way out.

His tongue was cool and wet, and he put just enough pressure behind it to make the pain flare back into each bit of severed skin as he licked it. "Oh, fuck, Angel," I groaned, letting my hips start rocking against him again.

"Mmm," he murmured. "You taste fantastic."

"You gonna go over all the cuts again?"

"Every," he licked a small segment of the next spiral. "Single," he licked again. "One."

"Oh, Christ, Peaches," I cursed as he continued inciting that delicious pain across my chest. "Are you trying to bloody kill me?"

"Unh-uh," he muttered into my flesh, working his way down inch by inch, line by line.

As Angel's tongue tortured me, curses fell from mine. "Oh, fuck…bloody hell…Jesus Christ, Angel…It's so…much! Too fucking much!"

"Do you want me to stop?" he murmured, rolling his eyes up to catch my gaze.

"No, you bloody wanker! I want you to finish, please!"

With a smile, Angel shifted down to the last set of cuts around my belly button, letting his chin graze the head of my cock as he licked upward. "Shit, luv," I breathed as that one slight brushing touch sizzled throughout my body.

And then he was done with the cuts, the pressure of his tongue ceasing and the pain slowly dying away as his eyes roamed over my chest again.

"I need you," I whispered, getting Angel's attention, "so much."

When he looked up at me, eyes completely full of affection and desire, saying, "I need you, too, hon," I came to a sudden realization. He loved me. I knew he wouldn't say it, but it was true. This cutting was his way of showing it, of showing that he loved me and I truly belonged to him.

I was barely aware of Angel untying all the ropes while I thought it over and came to the conclusion that I loved him as well. Bloody hell. Of all the fucking people in the world, I had to go and fall in love with him. I supposed it made a bizarre sort of sense, really. I mean, who else could torture me this sweetly, with so much affection? Who else had a monster to match my own? Who else would _want_ to love me?

I groaned in pain when Angel flipped me over and all those cuts rubbed against the bedsheets. As he tied my wrists together behind me, I muttered through pain-clenched teeth, "Think you're ruining the linens, Peaches."

"I don't much care," he replied, grabbing my hips and pulling me to the edge of the bed, scraping a few of the deeper cuts open again as they dragged across the fabric, making me cry out. I was dimly aware that he'd shed his boxers and grabbed the bottle of liquid from the nightstand drawer, but most of my attention was on the fiery pain bursting from each of the wounds Angel had made as they caught and scraped against the bed.

First, his hand found the back of my neck, and he squeezed again, playing off my instincts to get me to relax for him. It would have worked better had he not also been pressing me down into the bed, deliberately making those wounds hurt. And then, he positioned himself behind me, standing between my legs and pressing his hard cock against my arsehole, pushing in without any preparation, save a little bit of lube.

"Oh, for the love of…" I cried at the stretching, splitting pain, both of his intrusion into me and of the wounds on my front that scraped the bed every time Angel thrust against me.

"If it's too much," he panted, "don't be stubborn about toughing it out. Let me know." Putting his weight on his hands as he splayed them out on my back, he pressed me even further into the bed, deliberately putting pressure on my wounds, twisting my shoulders forward against the binding at my wrists. The pain and the pleasure mixed in just the right proportion and it was almost overwhelming.

"Ange, I don't think you'd ever be too much for me, even if you tried," I boasted through my desire-filled panting, wanting to see what he would do.

"Don't make me take you up on that offer," he growled, thrusting into me particularly hard and hitting that wonderful spot.

"Yes! Right there, you bastard," I cried out, noticing for the first time that as Angel held me down and thrust into me, the lip of my cock rubbed against the edge of the mattress, just enough to help me get off, if only Angel would keep doing what he was doing.

"Right where?" he playfully asked with another thrust.

"There, Peaches. Please!"

Grunting, Angel followed my direction, fucking me hard and with that precision he's learned from centuries of doing just this. But I really wasn't expecting what he said next, "You're _mine_, precious. Say that you're mine."

"Oh, I'm yours, pet. I'm yours, always." It wasn't quite a declaration of the love I felt for him, especially in that moment as he was fucking me like a sodding god, but it was close enough.

"Say it again," he whispered as he dropped down beside my ear, his chest against my back, his thrusts becoming more shallow and erratic.

Turning to face him as best I could, I told him again, "I'm yours, Angel. Got the bloody scars to prove it."

"Always?" he growled, burying his fangs into the flesh between my shoulder and my neck.

As he offered me his wrist, I said, "Always, luv, always," before biting down and letting his cool blood rush into my mouth and down my throat. As it spread through my body like tepid fire, tickling all my nerves and flooding my brain, I screamed out my release. My lifeless seed shot into the bed under my belly as Angel came in me, roaring and biting down harder as he thrust those last few times.

Eventually, Angel let me go with a satisfied sigh, standing and untying the ropes around my arms. Limply, I slid from the bed, but Angel caught me before I hit the floor, scooping me up into his arms and setting me down on the mattress, laying me out on my back so I could recuperate.

"Goldfish," I said softly, finally giving up now that it was all over. Angel lay down beside me, letting loose a deep, sexy chuckle at my joke.

Now that the haze of lust had cleared, Angel looked down at my chest again. The pattern wasn't so perfect anymore, as the skin had ripped in a few places, blood smearing across pale flesh. "Jesus Christ, Spike," he muttered as he got up and went into the bathroom, bringing back the first aid supplies. "Why did you let me do that to you?"

"Dunno, pet. Seemed like you needed to do it."

"I'm so sorry," he said, wetting some cotton and cleaning off the blood.

"Don't be sorry, luv," I said, catching his wrist so he would look up at me. "Just be happy with the fact that I loved it." I wanted to say, 'almost as much as I love you,' but I didn't. I couldn't. Not yet. Not until he said it first.

"Really?"

I tried to sit up, but decided that was a singularly bad idea. The wounds would have to heal for a few hours before I could really move around without tearing them open again. Laying back down and rearranging myself on the pillows with my arms loosely above my head, I said, "Yeah, you git. Or didn't all my words of encouragement make it through that thick skull of yours?"

Nodding with a slow smile, he bent down to continue cleaning me up, earning groans and hisses from my lips when he used his fingers to prod the skin back to where it belonged so it could heal correctly.

"How long d'you reckon the scars will be there?" I asked him, wincing again as he cleaned out a particularly nasty cut.

"They're not very deep," he said as he finished. "And some of them are closed up already. I'm guessing no longer than a week."

Bloody hell. Less than a week of knowing for certain every time I looked at my skin, that I belonged to him. It wasn't nearly enough.

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_Don't forget to review!_

_I almost skipped this scene because I really didn't like my first attempt at it, but then I realized how much it could mean to both Spike and Angel. Once I had that emotional guiding point, everything else just sort of fell into place. However, I still don't have much more of this story written, so the next chapter could be a long time coming, depending on how easily I can find my way back to the head space I need to be in._

_In the meantime, if you want some more David B. slash, check out my Bones/Dollhouse fic, 'The Brothers in the House'. That one's actually working for me right now, and it's getting pretty good reviews, which always make me happy. You don't need a whole lot of Dollhouse background to get into it, but having seen some episodes of Bones would be useful.  
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_~Ptera  
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	5. Part 5

_A/N: Happy New Year! Sorry this has taken so long. Holiday family reunions and spotty internet access are not conducive to writing or posting. It might be a few more days before Part 6 comes up, so be warned._ :) _In the meantime, I did post an Angel/Spike one-shot called 'The Suit' which didn't really fit in my series, but I liked it too much not to post it. So go check that out!  
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The next morning, Spike, Gunn, Lorne and I all met to try to decide what to do about Illyria. Spike stood, pacing behind me along the window, while the rest of us sat at the table. All this talk about Illyria really had him anxious, which I guess I couldn't blame him for, given what had happened between them the night before. We couldn't kill her, because Fred was still in there somewhere, but we couldn't let Illyria continue to control her body.

"This is very strange, Angel," Lorne said when I asked him about his progress. "I've talked to just about all the psychics I know, and none of them want to help us."

"Why not?" asked Gunn.

"Well, they all seem to be too scared of an 'Old One' to even attempt getting her out of there."

"But she's_ not_ an Old One," Spike pointed out. "She just _thinks_ she is."

"I know that, Sunshine," Lorne replied, "but I can't get anyone to come down here and see for themselves."

"Any other ideas?" I asked, looking over at Gunn and then back to Spike as he hovered over my shoulder.

"What about electroshock?" asked Spike. "Zap that demon right out of there."

"And fry her brain while we're at it?" I said, catching a few of his fingers in mine to help calm him down. It was nice, not having to hide from my friends anymore, letting myself touch Spike in front of them, at least.

"No, that won't work, boyo," Lorne agreed. "This is going to take magic."

"What about Willow?" Gunn asked, looking to me.

"The last time I called, no one would talk to me. They're all convinced we're evil now."

"I'll ring up Andrew," Spike suggested. "Try and get the little poof to pass word along to the witch. I mean, the good guys upstairs are still talking to us. Means we can't be too far gone, right?"

Gunn nodded. "Andrew did seem especially happy to see you when he came to help us out with that slayer." Gunn's tone hinted that maybe Andrew's affection was more than just friendly.

"We went through a lot together last year, mate," Spike said, getting defensive and pulling his hand away from me. "Boy was just glad I wasn't dead anymore."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Gunn sneered.

As Spike opened his mouth for a loud retort, I said, "Knock it off, both of you. We're supposed to be figuring out how to get rid of Illyria."

"That sounds like a fine plan to me." Hamilton's voice came from just outside the conference room. "Hello, Angel," the man nodded as he entered the room. "Boys."

"What do you want, Hamilton?" I asked, frowning at him.

"I just wanted to drop by and remind you of your job, Angel."

"I run this place. Is that all you had? Because we were in the middle of things. You do know what an appointment is, don't you?"

"Plotting how to get rid of Illyria? I heard. Would you like some help with that?"

"Why would you help us?" Spike snarled.

"Have you boys ever heard of a 'controlled strike'? Illyria managed to destroy eleven torture dimensions before she located your associate. By the way, it's good to see you again, Mr. Gunn." To my surprise, Gunn nodded to him carefully, but not in confusion. When had they met? Sometime between when he left my apartment last night and this morning? "All the destruction was quite expensive for the company and the Senior Partners are not pleased."

"Bill me," I muttered, wondering how much force it would take to pull his head off his shoulders.

"Already done, Angel," he smiled. "However, this setback has turned your operation from the highest earning division in the company to the one straggling at the bottom."

"So sorry," I said sarcastically. "Any other criticisms you'd like to share today?"

"I'm just letting you know how displeased the Senior Partners are with your performance. You know," he said, stepping halfway out the door before turning back, "running this branch is a privilege, not a right. They need to see some profits, and then maybe you can continue doing your good deeds. Remember, boys, this is a business, not a batcave." And with that he left, closing the sliding conference room doors behind him.

Spike sniffed insolently before saying, "Want me to kill that tosser for you, Peaches? I really wouldn't mind."

"No, Spike," I glanced up at him. "It's fine. He's right, we have to keep this place going while we try to figure out what are next few moves are with both Illyria and the Apocalypse."

"Angel?" said Harmony, sticking her head in the door. "Mr. Hamilton wanted me to let you know that your clients are here. Something about a demon contract and a money making opportunity?"

I sighed, "Yeah, okay, Harm. Send them in." I turned back to my people. "Spike, go keep Illyria busy and occupied, alright? And see if you can't get a hold of Andrew?" At his nod, I continued, "Lorne, keep an ear open for any psychics who might help us, but you might as well get back to work in the mean time."

"You got it, babe," he smiled, leaving the office.

"And Gunn? You're with me for this case."

"Sure, boss."

Spike and I shared a fond look before he left, passing a very pregnant blonde woman. "I'm here about the demon contract?" she said, while Gunn and I just stared at her in surprise.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked once I found out that her name was Amanda and she was going to give her baby to a pack of demons called the Fel Brethren. "I mean, you do know that the Fel Brethren are…?"

"Demons?" she asked, nodding. "Yeah, they've been very open about it."

"And you're okay with giving your baby to them?" asked Gunn, trying to read the whole contract in front of him while this conversation took place.

"Well, yeah," she nodded. Upon seeing dubious looks from both of us, the woman continued, "Look. These guys are super religious – well, not the God one, but still – and they have some sort of mystical seer who said my baby was special. That he's their holy one, the only one who can fulfill their prophecy. Do you have any idea what that's like?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," I muttered, thinking of Connor and wondering if he was still okay since I'd seen him the week before.

Gunn gave me an odd look. Oh, that's right. He'd been gone when Fred broke the Orlon window and didn't get his Connor memories back along with Fred and Lorne. Shaking my head at him, I turned back to the woman.

Before I could say anything, she continued, "We really can't afford this baby. My husband had an accident at work. Brain damage. We're already scraping by on food stamps and disability, but the hospital bills are adding up. And the Brethren," she smiled, "said that they could fix him. Make him better so he can work again." Hanging her head, she finished, "Make it so he remembers who I am. I mean, how does a person just turn all that away?"

My heart broke a little bit for her there, but Gunn just steamrolled over the entire sticky situation, saying, "Demon contracts can be tricky. Full of slippery language and double talk. As our client –"

"But she's not," said a voice from the doorway. Looking up, I saw three demons all with sickly gray skin, tiny mouths and beady little eyes. The head demon said in a cold voice, "we are."

Just as his intimidating air was building to a peak, the demon caught the woman's eye and switched to a very soothing sing-song voice, saying, "There she is! Amanda, how's our little golden child today?"

Amanda grinned back at him and the two began chatting about baby and pregnancy things while Gunn and I shared a look. Hamilton had to send this case to me as our money maker, didn't he? It couldn't be something simple like a gang war or an assassination, could it? Sighing, I let the chatter continue and watched Gunn finish reading the contract.

All of a sudden, Gunn looked up and asked "Grahbnack?"

The lead demon smiled (sort of, it was hard to tell since his mouth was so small) and threw his hands up in the air, saying, "Grahbnack!" His tone implied that this Grahbnack was some sort of celebration.

"It says here," Gunn read from the contract, "that the child will be raised on a holy diet of berries, barley and panda urine," the demon gave an embarrassed look toward us as Gunn continued, "and at the age of thirteen, will play a pivotal role in the festival of Grahbnack."

"That's like a bar mitzvah, right?" the woman asked.

Gunn looked up, meeting her eyes as he said, "It's a ritual sacrifice."

The demon hissed at Gunn, standing up, hitting the table and obviously angry that Gunn had dared mention that part of the contract in front of the mother.

"Can you give us a few moments?" I asked everyone, pulling Gunn from the conference room and into my office.

"What are we doing here, Angel?" Gunn asked me, facing away and out the window. "You know, I don't feel so good."

"Yeah," I said. "A vacation in hell tends to have that effect."

"You know what the worst thing about that place was?" Gunn asked me, still facing away. "It wasn't the basement. At least there you knew where you stood. Demon was gonna cut your heart out and show it to you. No, it was the life they tried to give you upstairs. The feeling that underneath everything, the house, the wife, the kids, it was all just lies. Only there to hide the horror. Is that what we're doing here, Angel?" he asked, finally turning to look at me. "Hiding the horror?"

"No," I insisted, trying to convince myself as much as him. "We have to stick with this at least a little longer, until we figure out what our next move is going to be. Until we figure out how to use this place to turn the tide of the Apocalypse back toward our side."

"That woman in there? Amanda?" he said, pointing. "She _is_ our next move."

"I know this is a situation none of us wanted to be in, Gunn," I started, "but we have to choose our battles here."

"And this one isn't worth winning?" Gunn crossed his arms in front of his chest, staring me down. I hadn't seen him like this in quite awhile. Stubborn and self-righteous. It was kind of nice, to tell the truth. Unfortunately, I couldn't have him screwing things up for the rest of us. Not when the final Apocalypse was on the line.

"No, Gunn. It's not worth it."

"You know what, Angel?" he said. "When I was down there, in that dungeon, Hamilton paid me a visit."

"Really?"

"Yeah, man. He offered to get me out, to make me a deal."

"And what did you say?" I asked him, crossing my arms suspiciously. I didn't like Hamilton to begin with and I really couldn't have him going to my people behind my back.

"I said that I'm done making deals."

Mostly relieved, I asked, "That's gonna make it difficult to do your job, isn't it?"

"If you ask me to be involved in things like this, then hell yeah, it is. I get why you think this is important, Angel, I do. But…"

"But, what? You want out?"

"We both know there's only one way out," he replied hoplessly, "and I'm not quite that desperate yet."

"We'll figure it out, Gunn," I assured him. "I promise. Someway we'll find our way back to where we really belong."

"When?"

That was really the question, wasn't it? When would the Powers that Be send us something more than a simple mission? When would they call us back to their side of this battle? Because I was getting really sick of trying to figure out where Wolfram and Hart ended and my good intentions began.

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_Remember to review and thanks for reading!_


	6. Part 6

Tempestuous Time Bomb - Part 6

Illyria found me smoking up in the machine room above the elevators, much to my chagrin. How'd the lass find me up there? Was she using magics to keep track of me now? Bugger.

My call to Andrew had been a worthless waste of time and the failure was eating at me. When I'd called him up, he answered the phone, "Yello?"

"Andrew, it's Spike," I said, bracing myself for the high-pitched squeal that inevitably came.

"Spike! What's happening?"

"Yeah, was wondering if you'd let me talk to Buffy."

"Finally gonna tell her you're alive?"

"Among other things," I said. "So, she there?"

I heard Andrew scuffle and scoff, but finally he admitted, "She's not here right now."

"She's got a mobile, yeah? Can't you give me her number?"

"Oh, I don't know. Giles told me I shouldn't give any of you guys any of their numbers. He thinks you've gone over to the dark side, working in that place."

"Does the Englishman know I'm back?" I asked, not really sure what to do with the answer either way.

"Yeah," Andrew said carefully, and I caught a tone that said there was more to it.

After waiting for him to elaborate for a few moments, I prodded, "And what?"

"Well," the little ponce drew out, "he's convinced you don't have a soul anymore."

"What? Where would he get that idea?"

"Some old book, I guess?"

Sighing, I thought on it for a moment, and then said, "I've still got my soul, Andrew. Plus, the bleedin' good-guy Powers That Be have seen fit to make me some sort of bloody messenger."

"Huh?"

"I get visions," I barked. "Bloody painful things that tell Angel where's the newest evil and how to kill it."

"So you're still fighting the good fight?"

"Every chance we get," I assured him. "And now, our friend has been possessed by the memories of a demon-god and we need help getting her back."

"Shouldn't Wesley know what to do?"

"The bloke is dead. We need Willow."

"Geez," Andrew sighed. "I really wish I could help you, Spike. But Giles is really scary when you piss him off."

"And I'm not?"

"But, you're seven thousand miles away…"

"Fine, you fucking pillock. Just tell Giles what I told you and tell him to call us back right away."

"Do you want me to tell Buffy?" he asked carefully.

"About needing help, yeah. But don't tell her about me. I need to do that m'self."

"Okay. I'll pass along the message."

"Yeah, thanks." Angry that he wouldn't do anything more, I hung up on him, wishing for the days when telephone headsets were nice and heavy and made a satisfying clunk when you slammed them down.

Illyria really needed to go, but there was nothing I could do. Andrew wouldn't do very much to help me. Giles wouldn't talk to Angel. And I definitely couldn't call Buffy, even if Angel did manage to wheedle her number from the bleedin' Watcher. No one trusted us. Hell, I wasn't even sure I trusted us. And here was Illyria, walking around in Fred's body, seeking me out 'cause I didn't show up for our sparring date. God, I hoped that misguided nut of a demon-god didn't think it was an actual date.

"Half-breed," she barked. "Spike. Your absence has displeased me."

"Oh, so sorry, luv," I sneered, dropping my cig to the concrete floor and snuffing it out with my boot.

"You should not default on your promises to a god. The consequences can be most unpleasant."

"Yeah, well I never had much religion, Lyrie. Maybe I just don't know any better." I left the room, climbing the stairs back down three flights to the door that would lead us to the training room. Might as well get on with it. Angel says keep the demon busy, and I (being the push-over of a wanker I am when it comes to him) says how long.

Illyria walked just behind me, and I could feel that unearthly gaze of hers boring into the space between my shoulders. It made my spine tingle and my guts clench.

"Rage falls from you like bitter effluvium," she observed.

"Well maybe, pet," I said, showing her into the training room, "I don't like being forced to do this. Maybe I'm having a bad day because certain Scoobies couldn't give a rat's arse about us. Maybe I don't like needing Angel's protection from a skinny bint like you. Maybe I miss my friend, the one whose body you've stolen."

"Why do you speak in hypotheticals rather than absolutes? Hypotheses are as useful as food to the drowning, Spike."

"Fuck, Illyria! What does that even mean? Why can't you just go away?"

"This shell has great attachment to this place. I find it pains me when I think of leaving."

Sighing, I took a fighting stance and muttered, "Let's get this over with, yeah?"

"How would your king like you to test my abilities today?" she asked, circling around me with that creepy tilt to her head.

"I dunno, Lyrie. He didn't say, now did he?"

"Shall I commence hitting you?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "Good a place as any to get started."

We fought for a few minutes, trading blows back and forth. The cuts on my front pulled a little, but it didn't feel like any were in danger of opening back up and I managed to get in a few good whacks. I pulled most of my blows so I wouldn't hurt her, even if she was protecting herself with magic.

"I do not believe you hit with your full force," Illyria said when she noticed what I'd been doing.

"No, pet. I'm not," I sneered, jumping as she tried to sweep my legs out from under me.

"As a God-king, I deserve your best. Why do you insult me so?"

Laughing, I replied, "Oh, look at the god-king! Stuck in a human body with a human brain that she doesn't even have to herself."

Surprisingly, my taunts actually made her angry and she hit me harder than she had before, so hard that I flew across the room and bounced off the observation window. "Oh," I said with a wince as I got to my feet, "is Fred a sore subject, then? Bint?"

"This entity you have named Fred is buried so deeply that were my mind the earth, the worms under our feet would rejoice in their proximity to the stars in comparison to her." Illyria threw another punch as hard as the last, but this one I managed to dodge.

Dancing away, I asked, "And you're what? A daffodil? It's time to face facts, Lyrie," chuckling, I dodged another blow, "you're a lower being."

"Why do you mock my suffering, wretch? I am glory and grace, divine. You should be worshiping at my feet and obeying my commands. Instead," she snarled, landing a glancing kick on my side, for which I retaliated with a hard punch to the jaw, "you test my strength and my patience."

"'Tis what I'm best at, luv," I grinned, blocking another blow and returning with one to her ribs.

"To think, that I actually let Fred's affection for you cloud my magnificence. One shudders at the thought."

"Don't wanna get down and dirty anymore, pet? Ah, 'tis for the best, really. Since I'm taken and all."

"You refer to your relationship with Angel."

"Aye, pet. I'm his, make no mistake."

"When it comes to Angel," she spat, "you should consider that an effective king serves no master but his ambition."

"And just what is that supposed to mean? Aren't plannin' a little coup, are we luv?"

"I merely mention this because a king such as he will not suffer intimates for much longer. As he becomes more powerful and steers the might of the Wolf, Ram, and Hart, he will find no more need for you."

"Well fuck you, Lyrie," I countered, wondering if there could be any truth in what she was saying. Angel loved me, didn't he? Not that I was imagining white picket fences and happily ever after, but a few decades of belonging to someone would be nice. Before Sunnydale, I'd always belonged to Dru. It was a nice feeling to have back, even if I'd gone and fallen for my lout of a grandsire in her place. "Angel's never been ambitious, not since getting his soul."

"The dichotomy of his existence cannot last forever. Like quantum particles, under observation one state must be chosen."

"Look who's talkin', pet. One big shining example of dichotomy, aren'cha? Two personalities in one brain, takes a lot outta you, don't it?"

Watching her face, I noticed a flicker of doubt, reveling in my success at getting to her. After everything she'd said, everything she'd done, I just wanted to make her hurt.

When she didn't respond, I continued, "Well, keep your britches on, Blue. Angel's team is working on a way to cure that two-sided problem o' yours."

"What do you mean by 'cure'?" she asked, regarding me with unblinking, almost snake-like attention.

"I mean, get rid of you. Get you out of Fred's skull and back in the ground where you belong."

"You seek to destroy me, worm?" Oh, she was mighty brassed off and I smiled at her anger, bathing in it. "You and your king dare to try ending _my_ existence? Your efforts shall not succeed," she assured me, leaving the room at almost a run. I don't think I'd ever seen Illyria _run_ before. She stalked, she strolled, but she didn't _run_. And then, mid-stride, she disappeared into a short, streaking blur.

"Well, that's not right," I muttered. Suddenly it dawned on me that I might have done a very bad thing in upsetting her. Fuck. Angel would have to know about this, and soon.

Gunn and I were still trying to figure out what to do about the Fel Brethren when I felt more than saw Spike walking toward us through the lobby. Then, he cried out in anguish and fell to his knees. Before I'd even figured out that he was having a vision and hadn't been attacked by something, I was at his side, ready to defend him. The smell of his anguish seeped from his skin like pus, nasty and rank, and this close to him, having fed on so much of his blood only the night before, I felt a shadow of his pain in my head.

Not caring that everyone in Wolfram and Hart could see us, I held onto him as he writhed in pain, a hand on either of his shoulders, one arm around his back. What would really help his pain was skin contact, but the most I could give him in this public a setting was slipping one of my hands in his.

"What's going on, Spike?" I asked, looking to Gunn for some help in getting my ... getting Spike into my office. The tall man nodded and bent to pick Spike up by one underarm, while I got the other.

As we dragged Spike away, he started talking, " Oh, god, Angel. The duck's gone completely sack o' hammers on us."

"Who?"

"Illyria. Fred. One o' the two."

"What did you see, man?" asked Gunn as we set Spike down on the couch. Throughout the ordeal, Spike had kept his hold on my hand, practically crushing my fingers. It made me feel so needed.

"Girl's got some sort o' bomb in the lab. Gonna blow up the whole place! Very, very soon, luv."

"Shit," I said before calling out to Harmony. "Harm! Evacuate the building!"

"Why?"

I growled in frustration. "Just do it!"

"Okay! Geez, boss," she said, picking up the phone.

"Gunn!" I yelled, getting his attention. "Make sure Amanda gets out of the building. Oh, and find Lorne. Make sure he makes it out, too."

"Don't tell me you're staying!"

"I've got to stall her, to give you guys enough time to escape," I told him, shooing him off. "Now, go!"

Gunn nodded shortly and collected the pregnant woman from the conference room just as all the alarms started going off.

"Bloody hell!" yelled Spike, clutching his ears and grimacing. "This place sure has all the bells and whistles, don't it, Ange?"

"Yeah," I muttered pulling him to his feet. "You've got to get out of here, too."

"What? And leave you here, pet? No fucking way!"

"There's no point in us both getting blown up, is there, Spike?"

"And there's a point to one of us surviving?" he scoffed as he walked away from me, right past the elevators and up the stairs to the lab. When I caught up with him, he said, "You can't talk her down by yourself, Angel. 'Sides, I'm the one Illyria likes!"

"Did your vision show you why she's doing this? Maybe it's because you spurned her advances. Maybe seeing you will just make things worse!" Spike gave me a look that said I'd hit pretty close to the mark, but then he shook it off.

Smiling at me like he hadn't a care in the world, Spike opened the lab doors and said, "Guess we just gotta take our chances, luv."

* * *

_Go ahead and review! You know you want to..._

_Updates should be a little more regular now that the holidays are over, but I have to admit I'm still working on the last two chapters for this episode, along with everything else. Hopefully good things will come to those who wait._

_~Ptera  
_


	7. Part 7

Part 7

I followed him closely, still angry Spike wouldn't leave when I told him to. But he was stubborn more often than not when it came to me. And then there was what he'd said about there being no point to being alive if I wasn't there. That was just crap, wasn't it? Just something he'd say because it sounded right, not because he meant it? No, he couldn't mean it. He didn't love me and want to keep me safe, but he did want to go down in flames at my side. There wasn't really anything I could think to say to get him to leave. And besides, he was the closest thing Illyria had to a friend among all of us. I just might need his help.

Illyria stood in the lab, watching us approach. I shouldered my way ahead of Spike, showing her once again that though Spike was insolent, I was still the one in charge here. We stopped a good ten feet away from her, and I took a few seconds to look around, noticing the tangle of wires and jugs on the table in front of Fred. And then the dozen other barrels of what could only be something dangerously explosive. But it wasn't Fred, it was Illyria, damnit. She looked up at me with blue eyes, so out of place in Fred's face, and sneered, "Angel."

"Illyria. What are you doing?" I asked carefully, though I'm sure some rage escaped through my clenched teeth. That and the terror of dying at the hands of a crazy demon who used to be my friend. Though I'd survived plenty of attempts on my life, I was pretty sure being blown up didn't make the list. Not at this close range, anyways.

"I am teaching your world what it means to defy a god king," she replied, her normally steady gaze flicked back and forth between me and Spike.

"How did we defy you?"

"I have done many of the things you've asked, primarily due to my disgusting attachment to this place, yet you seek to betray and murder me."

"You sound brassed off, Lyrie," Spike noted, standing just behind and to the side of me. "Thought human feelings were beneath you."

"You are correct. In my day 'betrayal' was as neutral a word as 'water' or 'breeze'. But this body has infected me with the emotions of a lower being."

"Look, Illyria," I said, pushing Spike back a little and gesturing that she should calm down, "we don't want to murder you."

"That's not what your dog says," she replied, nodding toward Spike.

Mostly to show Illyria I was in charge, but also because I couldn't believe his stupidity, I grabbed Spike by the back of the neck, growling, "What did you do? What did you say to her?"

Spike mustn't have been expecting me to grab him so harshly, because he actually fell to his knees beside me, snarling up at me, "I just told her we're trying to get Fred back."

"Why would you do that? Fucking idiot," I snarled, rage threatening to crush my chest at how his lack of forethought and that big fucking mouth of his had put us both in danger yet again. Though I really wanted to push him down and away, punish him for being so stupid, I didn't. I let him go, because I couldn't bear for him to hate me, even if I was royally pissed off. "Tell her it isn't true," I ordered him.

Standing and glaring at me, Spike ignored my questions and my order, instead stepping toward Illyria carefully. "Look, Lyrie," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'm not gonna lie to you now," he sent a meaningful look back my way. "We've been working out how to get you out of Fred's brain."

"The other half-breed does not bend to your will, Angel," Illyria gloated with a ghost of a smile.

Furious, I pulled him toward me, whispering harshly in his ear, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Look, pet," he replied, clutching my arm almost painfully, "I've got a good-cop/bad-cop sort of idea here."

"What?"

Spike sighed in irritation, "Quit being such a culturally ignorant git. Just throw me out of the room and be Angelus for a few minutes to keep her busy."

After a moment's hesitation, I asked him, "Why am I even considering this? Your plans never work out."

"And yours bloody well do? Look," he pointed around the room. "Illyria managed to build that bomb in about five minute's time."

"That's impossible," I realized, keeping my voice low and angry.

"Not if she's –"

"Fuck. She's messing with time?" I guessed, remembering what he'd told me about Knox's escape.

"That's the working theory, mate," he nodded. "Now get really mad and throw me from the room."

"If you insist," I snarled. Yelling for Illyria's benefit, I bellowed, "Get out of my sight, Spike! I don't want to see your useless face until this is over with." And then I grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him towards the exit, wincing when he hit the safety glass in the windowed portion of the door and caused a giant spider-webbing crack across it.

Hmm, be Angelus. I turned back to Illyria, giving her a careless smirk and asking, "There's got to be some way we can work this out."

"You must look after your best interests, Angel. I will look after mine," she moved toward the bomb and I lost it, rushing her before she could set it off. Protecting certain people who were probably still in the building, I lunged and was able to grab her hand, but she shook off my grasp and blurred over to the other side of the room.

"So it's true," I nodded gravely as I turned to face her. "You've been bending time."

"I find it a fitting method to bypass the dreadful limitations this body has placed on my magnificence."

"Why not just stop time and blow us all to smithereens?"

"I have been _trying_, vampire," she admitted ruefully.

"Why can't you?"

"It seems," she shuddered, trying to get closer to me and the bomb, but something stopped her, "your presence has caused my shell to fight against the effort to destroy you."

Relieved and proud of Fred, I said, "Good. It's about time someone brought you down from your high horse."

"I was God to a god!" She paced back and forth like a caged lion.

"And now you're not!" I shouted, making sure to keep myself between her and the bomb. "Get over it and leave me and my people alone. We've got enough to deal with without you trying to take everyone down with you."

"Angel," she grimaced menacingly, "you think your situation so grave? You have all this power at your hands," she said, raising her arms to indicate the whole building – Wolfram and Hart, "and yet you quibble at the price."

"What are you trying to tell me Illyria?"

"Your _morals _and your _attachments_," she said these words as if they were filth in her mouth, "restrict you, Angel. A true king should be as moral as a hurricane, as unattached to the consequences of his actions as an earthquake. He should have no master but his own ambition."

"I'm sure," I said cruelly. "But that's not the way it works now."

"That is _always_ the way it works," she scoffed. "Even the millions of years since I was a true power in this dimension could not change that basic fact. Just as water is still water and stone is still stone, truly effective rulers must be amoral and emotionless."

"I'm really not in the mood for a 'when you were all scum' speech, Illyria."

"You should heed my words, Angel," Illyria sneered. Then her tone became oddly casual, "If you wanna win a war..." She paused, tilting her head and meeting my eyes with hers. "…you've gotta use the weapons you've got." I recognized a little bit of Fred's accent filtering back into her speech, though her stature and blue eyes screamed, 'Illyria.'

* * *

After Angel threw me out of the room much more painfully than I thought necessary, I took a second to pull myself up off the ground and try to figure out what to do. I had a plan, somewhere in the back of my head, I was sure of it. Maybe it was in my gut and my brain was just bloody clueless as far as the plan went. And it was a good plan, I could feel it even if I couldn't remember it.

Where did it start again? Oh, that's right. Good cop, bad cop. Angel was definitely the bad cop. He had that poncy air of rage and self-righteousness and inane, though surprisingly hurtful, insults. Got downright boring after awhile. Git was lucky he was so good in the sack, else I probably would have left by now. Wait, where was I? Right, good cop.

Something to get in good with Illyria or Fred. Now there was a thought. Maybe do something to bring Fred to the surface. Let her know her brain-mate was plannin' on killin' all her friends. Something that had nothing to do with Wesley. That would just send her back to la-la land and we'd all be as good as dead.

Fred was from … Texas she had said. That was a good lead, her childhood. Seemed happy as far as I could tell. Angel'd said her parents were still alive, and still in Texas. No time to go get them. Maybe ring them up? Get them on the phone?

I made my way around the lab and up a flight to another entrance, the one that was closer to Fred's office. Expecting her parents' phone number was in that office somewhere, I used all the vampiric skill I could muster to sneak from the entrance and into Fred's office without either Angel or the crazy bint noticing my presence. When I slipped into the room and closed the door behind me, peeking out the window to gauge their reactions, I decided I was safe.

I ruffled through the drawers of her desk, looking for an address book or something, but there was nothing. "Brilliant," I muttered, looking up at the window, eyes lighting on the Dixie Chicks poster on the wall beside the window. And below that, sitting on the filing cabinet, was a stuffed rabbit. Wearing glasses.

Smiling, I made my way, still crouched down, over to that rabbit, picking it up and giving it a good whiff. It smelled strongly of Fred, several decades of her, I would guess. Most of the fur was threadbare and showing through to the stuffing, though the rabbit's face looked well preserved. Or maybe just better constructed than the rest of the stuffed animal. There was a tag in the rabbit's rear and it had been labeled 'M. Feigenbaum'. Wasn't that just the perfect name for a rabbit with glasses? This was important to Fred. For her to have such a well-used childhood toy in her office? Something so obviously named by her, close to her heart? It meant something.

Hopefully something I could use to my advantage.

As I stepped from Fred's office and began descending the stairs down into the lab, Illyria was saying in an oddly Fred-like manner, "…you've gotta use the weapons you've got." Don't ask me how the git managed it, but Angel was now standing between Illyria and the big, scary bomb. Probably that good luck he always manages to have.

"Oi, Illyria," I said, getting her attention. "Angel hasn't been too hard on you, has he pet?"

"I do not require your concern, half-breed," she drawled, the Texan accent growing more and more pronounced, though the words were still all Illyria. "I was just explaining to your king why all his plans will fail. I was thinking of just savin' him the trouble and bringin' the whole shebang down 'round everyone's heads."

I glanced at Angel, and he nodded, telling me he'd noticed Illyria's odd behavior. "Fred makin' herself known, duck?" I asked, moving closer carefully, putting myself next to Angel and between Illyria and the bomb.

"I should be able to do this," she said in her imperious accent, taking a shaky step forward. "This existence is unbearable. And creatures as disgusting as y'all do not deserve to be the ones to bring me down."

"You're right, Lyrie," I said, pushing Angel away as he desperately tried to get me to shut up. "We're not the ones to take you down are we? It's that wonderful creature whose brain you've stolen. Fred'll be the one to stop you."

"Fred should have died when my essence infected her. You two are responsible for everything going wrong! Wesley should not have died!"

"I know, pet," I said, stepping closer to her. "I know." I pulled the rabbit out from behind my back and showed it to her, saying, "Look what I've got, kitten. A Mr. Feigenbaum," I said, reading the label.

"Feigenbaum?" she asked, suddenly sounding much less like a demon god and much more like a scared little girl.

"I know you're in there, Fred," Angel said, stepping up beside me. "I know it hurts and I know, more than anyone else, that Wesley shouldn't have died. But I need you to fight, Fred."

Angel nudged me and pointed to indicated I should hand over the rabbit. Nodding, I held it out and closed the last few feet, placing the stuffed animal gently in Illyria's hands.

"Thought you might like to see him," I said softly as I backed away, watching as Illyria nodded gratefully. Well if that weren't one of the most surreal experiences of my life?

"Fred," Angel continued, drawing me back toward him with a hand on mine, "just think about it. If you destroy this building, if you kill us, no one will be left to make sure this Apocalypse goes our way. There will be no more good days. Not for us, not for Gunn or Lorne –"

"Not for your parents," I broke in, giving Fred a significant look.

Angel continued, "Not for other little girls who give weird names to their toys."

"Feigenbaum isn't a weird name," she said defensively. "He's the master of chaos."

"It's a lovely name," I soothed her, but found myself leaning into Angel, tightening my grip on his hand. Probably not the best move, tactics-wise, but I couldn't look at this poor lost girl without wanting to cling onto the one thing that made me feel a little less adrift in this world.

"Fred," Angel continued, "I need you to fight her. I know you can do it. You survived Pylea, Fred. I'm sure you can survive this, too. You just need to fight!"

"If I fight her back," she said, looking up at us with blissfully chocolate brown eyes, "will you still try to get rid of her?" Incredibly, her tone said she didn't want us to dispose of her mental houseguest.

"She's dangerous…" Angel pointed out, giving me a confused look to match my own.

"She's scared," Fred replied.

"Illyria's not adjusting well," I said. "Bint's trying to blow us all up, you included."

"But," Fred cringed, hugging the rabbit to her chest, "she's kinda all I got left. If I don't got her, who do I got?"

"You have us, Fred," I said, stepping toward her, though my grip on Angel's hand stayed steady, holding me back from her. Unconsciously, I guessed.

"I need her," Fred whispered, lowering down to the ground on shaky legs.

Angel closed the distance between them, but he didn't let go of me. He didn't abandon me as he crouched down to comfort her. "Alright, Fred," he agreed. "If you need Illyria, we won't get rid of her. But you've got to keep her in line."

"Yeah, pet," I said, joining them on the floor. "We can't have Betty Blue tryin' to blow us up whenever you get the sniffles."

"Illyria?" Fred asked, staring past us.

"Shell," she replied in a completely different voice, raising her chin defiantly, the rest of her facial features slack.

Suddenly her face scrunched up again. "I'm not gonna let you blow up my friends."

Then, Illyria was back, "We both know what a relief it would be."

"A relief, yeah. After all the burning and terror," and there was that dry Fred sarcasm.

Angel and I just looked at each other, and I supposed he was doing the same thing I was – trying to come to grips with seeing this daft bint hold a conversation with herself.

"But they need us, Illyria. There's the Apocalypse coming up. I know you wouldn't mind helping us bring down the Wolf, Ram, and Hart."

"I _do_ despise creatures who think themselves more powerful than I."

"We could totally work together. Angel would love having you on the team!" Fred gave Angel a look that said he'd better agree shortly before Illyria's gaze snapped back onto him.

"I…uh," he said, looking to me. I dug my fingernails into his palm and nodded at him, forcing him out of his hesitation. "Yeah. If you can quit threatening to take us down, we'd love to have you on the team."

"'We', Angel? You want my assistance, or your mate does? You tend to defer to him more often than seems wise."

Angel scoffed, drawing his brows together and dropping my hand. "Me, Illyria. I know you'll be invaluable to the team, especially all that knowledge of the big demon players. We may not worship you, but we can learn to get along, right?"

"Fine," she spat, looking up with eyes that were once again blue. "It seems I'm too weak to even break my host for more than a moment at a time since you bolstered her will. Fred and I will come to some sort of agreement."

Then, she shook her head and sighed. "I think we'll be okay. It's gonna be okay, right, Angel?" Fred looked up at him like he was the bleedin' answer to the universe, and I got fucking jealous again. He was _mine,_ damn it!

"Yeah, Fred," he said, putting his hand on hers. But then he surprised me by grabbing my hand with his other, catching my eyes in his gaze briefly before he turned back to Fred and continued, "It's all going to be okay. As long as _you_ can help us disarm this bomb before anyone sets it off by accident."

"Yeah," she laughed nervously, looking to the bomb over Angel's shoulder. "We definitely wouldn't want that!"

* * *

_A/N: So the Spike half of this chapter is probably my favorite thing I've written, if not ever, than in a long time. If the jokes only make sense in my head, go ahead and tell me. Though delusion is comfy, it's not a place one should linger for long. :)_

_One more chapter to go in this 'episode', and I want to thank those thirty or so people who are still reading. I'm mostly writing this for my own entertainment, but it helps to know other people are getting a kick out of it, too. I absolutely love hearing any reviews or comments! _

_There's one more super-long episode after this. I'm thinking about calling it "Trilliums and Black Thorns" which is a stupid title, I realize, but I really can't think of anything better for a fic containing 'The Girl in Question', 'Power Play', 'Not Fade Away', and then what happens directly afterward. If you want to think of something more clever for me, go ahead and leave that in the comments. Please? I'm really not begging..._

_Then, I've been working on a post-NFA continuation of this series. I'm not very far in, and I kinda want to know if there's any interest before I really throw myself into that one. I've got two really good plots and another three or so vague ideas for following episodes. So, if you want much, much more from this series, please leave that in the comments as well.  
_


	8. Part 8

_A/N: This is the last chapter, which ended up much longer than intended, but there was a lot of ground to cover. **I just posted yesterday, so go back a chapter and read that one if you haven't yet.**_

* * *

As everyone filtered back into the building after Fred diffused the bomb, I thought about what Illyria had said. Amoral and emotionless leaders were more effective. I'd had the suspicion this was true since Wesley had died at the Deeper Well, because I hadn't had the unemotional sense to keep him away from Fred while she was dying. It cost him his life.

If I were emotionless, if I didn't feel attachment to people like Fred or Gunn or Lorne. If I didn't love Spike – God damn it when had that happened? I'd always had a soft spot for him, even when I was evil and angry with him most of the time. And these last few weeks, I'd grown to care about him. More than I had before. We got along well, now that we'd come to some sort of agreement about what we needed from each other. And even if he had pissed me off today, letting our plans about Illyria slip, I didn't hate him for it. I couldn't even stay mad at him for it. He was just being Spike.

And I fucking loved him. Not like a friend or a family member. I loved him _romantically_. I loved him in a way that made me want to kiss him and hold him tightly and never let him go. I loved how he brought me in line with his insults. I loved how he wanted me to hurt him. I loved how he knew more about me than anyone else ever had. I loved those wicked smiles and how his soul peeked out from behind that brash act he wears all the time. I loved how that act slipped away on occasion, when he was with me.

If I didn't have him, if I were emotionless, cold, amoral, I probably would have killed Illyria right away when she took over Fred's body. I would have been more ruthless in pursuing ways to get her out, even if they meant hurting Fred. I could have snapped her neck and ended it, like I've ended so many other lives. I wouldn't have given Fred the chance she needed to fight Illryia back.

But I wasn't emotionless. I wasn't Angelus, or how Angelus liked to think of himself. I had my soul now. I had my conscience. And I had Spike. I couldn't just go around doing whatever suited me and my ambition, as tempting as Illyria made it sound. I couldn't face Spike and his fucking new-found righteousness if I'd killed her. I couldn't face myself.

But I needed this place, Wolfram and Hart, to win the war. I needed to figure out how to use it to my advantage. I needed to stay in power until that happened. I needed to keep the Senior Partners happy, which meant keeping our clients, the Fel Brethren, happy. I needed more time. To figure things out. To save the world. To tell Spike how much I fucking loved him. Because I couldn't do it. Not yet. Not until he said it first.

Gunn came up in the elevator with the Brethren, arguing with one of the demons and keeping Amanda behind his back, supposedly safe from them.

"The baby is ours!" the leader shouted. They all walked toward my office and I strode out to meet them. "We had an implicit agreement with the mother."

"There was nothing signed," Gunn retorted. "I could rip that agreement apart in the courtroom."

"Gunn!" I said forcefully, stopping him in his tracks with a hand in front of his chest. "The baby belongs to the Brethren." The head demon and I shared a nod before I turned to everyone else and, guiding Amanda with a hand at the small of her back, said, "If you'll please follow me, we'll get everything straightened out."

Gunn pulled me back, and I twisted my arm from his grasp. "What are you doin', man?"

"What we're supposed to do," I replied, catching Hamilton's eye behind Gunn as the liaison stepped off the elevator. Sshoving down the revulsion I felt at what I was about to do, I said, "Serve our clients." Ignoring Gunn's indignant scoff, I finished ushering demons into my office and closed the door.

* * *

Angel shivered in my arms, turning away from me, but letting me keep a hold on him. "Today was too close, Spike," he said, lacing the fingers of one hand in mine, holding it to his chest. As was customary, I was starkers under the bedclothes, but Angel was wearing sleep pants. At least he was shirtless, letting me pet his back, finding comfort for both of us in the press of skin on skin.

"But we got Fred back. That's something at least, pet," I reminded him, burying my nose in the cleft between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in.

"And then I had to go turn around and give a baby up for slaughter. There was just no other choice."

"Not right now," I agreed, loosing my hand from his and petting his side. "But we've got an Apocalypse to deal with, yeah? After that we'll figure out what to do about the tyke."

"Yeah," he said slowly. "There's time." Angel sighed and snuggled closer against me and I kissed his neck, letting my tongue dart out to taste his skin. Without thinking, my hand found Angel's hip, grabbing onto him and pulling his ass closer to me. "What are you up to?" he asked, and I noticed the breathless hitch in his voice as I pressed against him.

"Dunno, luv," I replied, smiling into his skin and planting wet kisses across the back of his shoulders. My hand found its way around the waist of Angel's sleep pants, dipping in flat along that line of fine hair leading down from his belly button.

"Spike," he whispered, and I was surprised there was no warning in his voice. Just affection and lust. Angel needed to give himself over to me. He needed me to take control, to make love to him and pull him out of his busy head for once.

"I'm right here, luv," I whispered, nipping at the soft flesh of his neck as my hand found his semi-rigid prick.

"Oh, precious," he breathed as I stroked him. I didn't know why he called me that, but every time it sounded less sarcastic and more like a promise. More like it meant he cared about me, he worried about me, he wanted to keep me safe. Git that I am, I almost cried at the love and need in his voice and his scent.

Letting go of his cock, I tugged at his waistband, pulling off his pants and underwear, smiling as he rolled onto his back before me and lifted his hips so I could get him naked easier. As I returned to him, running my hands up the sides of his legs, over his hips, his muscled stomach and chest, leaning in to kiss his mouth, I marveled at how much I loved him.

I let that love color my kisses and the scent roiling from my skin, letting it pour over him, hoping he got the message.

I kissed Angel long and slow, kneading his lips with mine, brushing, nipping and licking, murmuring into him. Settling down next to him, I used a hand to keep his head with mine as I shifted, turning him so we faced each other on our sides. I held his head close with one hand and let the other explore his chest and shoulder, shivering when he thrust himself against me gently. Letting my hand explore downward, I drew my fingers gently over the swell of his arse.

When my fingers slipped into the cleft and traced his entrance, Angel gasped, "Spike, hon," and it sounded almost like a sob. When I opened my eyes to read his face, I found Angel looking back at me. Our eyes met and he whispered, "Ohh, go slow."

"Whatever you want, luv," I assured him, kissing him again as I touched him gently. Before I got too far, Angel pulled back and rolled toward his nightstand, pulling the bottle of slick from the drawer and handing it to me with a tiny grin. Good. My grandsire didn't let me fuck him very often, because he preferred being in control. But when he closed his eyes and leaned into me, kissing my neck and lifting his top leg up onto my hip, exposing himself to my probing and slicked up fingers, I knew he trusted me enough to put himself in my hands. Completely.

And Angel doesn't trust anyone.

Finding his prick sandwiched between our bellies, I stroked him with one hand, pushing a finger into him with the other, making him groan and shiver. When I got him stretched out enough so I wouldn't hurt him, I whispered, "Roll over, Angel," guiding him onto his side so he was facing way from me. Spooning him from behind, I ran one hand over his chest, down over his hip and leg. Lifting that leg and drawing his knee up, I asked, "Ready, luv?"

"Mmm," he moaned, and I saw his hand travel downward, stroking himself as I carefully entered him.

"Jesus, pet," I breathed, panting as the beautiful pleasure of his body clamping down on my cock threatened to send me screaming into orgasm already. "So brilliantly perfect, luv," I said, seating myself in him completely.

I slipped my free arm under his chest, holding him close and resting my forehead between his shoulder blades as I drew out and rocked back into him, the perfectly slow fiery pleasure of desire slicing into my belly again and again, enveloping my core as I made love to him. "Love fucking you, Ange," I whispered, kissing his back and pulling his leg further so I could change my angle a bit.

"Yesss," he sighed.

"That good?" I asked, rocking against him gently.

"Yeah," he nodded, arching his back into me, helping me take him. "Harder."

"Aye, luv," I whispered, thrusting into him again and then again. "Agh, shit, Ange," I panted as I thrust a third time. "Just too good."

A loud groan escaped his lips on the next thrust and I could tell by the way his arse clamped around me and how he tried to pull his leg down that he was coming. "Spike," he whined.

"Right with you, my sweet," I moaned as I let myself give in, thrusting a few more times and releasing everything I had into him. But at my words, Angel's whole body tensed, and not in a good way. Releasing his leg, I pulled my cock out of him carefully, still reveling in the shudders of climax as I asked him, "What's wrong, Angel? Did I hurt you?"

"No," he whispered, pulling into himself, away from me.

"What, then?" I asked gently, frowning when he flinched away from my hand on his back. "Was it something I said?"

"'My sweet'," he choked, shivering.

"And that was bad, I take it?" I asked, sitting up against the headboard and wishing he would turn around and look at me. The salty smell of tears amidst the sex put my heart up in my throat. "I won't say it again. I promise." After his continued shivering silence, I hazarded petting his hair gently, which he submitted to after a briefly tense moment. "What's amatter, Ange? I didn't think I was that bad a lay."

That actually got a slight chuckle from him, through the tears. "It's just," he sniffed and wiped his eyes, "ancient history."

"I'm up for a history lesson," I assured him, still petting his hair, keeping my touches light and non-threatening.

Sighing and pulling a blanket over himself, he said, "It happened when I was human."

"What happened, luv?"

"When I was young, before I was strong enough to fight him off," he whispered.

It took a moment of processing before I put the pieces together. "Oh, pet," I sighed, sliding back down and turning him to face me, working an arm under his neck and letting him settle against my chest. "Who was he?"

Without looking up at me, he answered, "An uncle or a second cousin. I can't really remember. Don't want to remember."

"Why on earth would you let me...in?"

"I wanted it," he assured me. "I wanted you to fuck me. And that...those incidents were so long ago. All the other times with you, we always shared blood beforehand. It hasn't been an issue."

"This was the first time we didn't bite each other," I realized. "The only time. I didn't even think of it. Huh." So much of our relationship had been built on the premise that we needed each other's blood and then on the effects that blood had once we'd drunk it.

"The blood helps," he confessed. "Hazes everything together until it's just you and me. No ghosts, no guilt, just us."

"Sorry, pet. I should have offered."

With a mirthless laugh, Angel replied, "It would be nice not to need it for once."

"The need never goes away," I warned him. "Not for long."

"Yeah," he whispered, snuggling in closer to me and putting his arm across my chest, tucking his hand between my ribs and the mattress. We lay like that for a long time, and I grew more and more chagrined that my attempt to pull Angel out of his head for a while had only buried him deeper under memories that were obviously traumatic at best.

"You didn't have to let me," I said, still petting his hair. "I'd be happy without, luv. Plenty of other ways to get what I need from you," I assured him, putting a bit of an evil glint in my smile, though he didn't look up to see it.

"It should be fine. I thought it was fine. I mean, Christ, it's been two hundred and sixty some years. It's just," he sighed, tracing a finger over one of the patterns on my chest, "when you called me, 'my sweet', it brought everything back. That's what he used to call me. 'My sweet boy'."

"Oh, pet," I said, kissing his hair. "Some things stick with us, even after centuries." I spent a few silent moments, wondering whether or not I should share. Maybe it would make him feel better, ease the pain I could feel in him, courtesy of all the blood we'd been sharing. "You know," I began, suddenly realizing how difficult it was to say out loud. Clearing my throat, I made myself continue, "There's a few words, spoken by a woman I thought I loved, that I've never been able to shake."

"A few words?"

"She said...," gathering my thoughts and courage, I paused. "She said, 'You are beneath me.' Fucking stung. And then the Slayer had to go say the same bloody thing. Almost killed her over it." Sighing, I hugged him closer. "I know it don't sound like much, but there it is." I waited a few moments before asking, "What about you, Ange? Any other land mines I best be aware of?"

"Don't think so," he said after a moment of thought. "But I didn't even think that one was still with me."

"You ever let anyone else...?"

"Never."

"Angel," I whispered, holding him close, realizing how much he had given me. Of all the people he's been with, I was the only one he'd let fuck him. The only bloke he trusted. "You ever told anyone else? Your family? Darla?"

"My da thought I was a no-good liar before I tried to tell him. He was such an asshole. And Darla didn't tolerate weaknesses," he sighed, hugging me tighter and letting the tears fall onto my chest. "You know, you hear you're trash every day of your life and then someone comes along and shows you it's true, pretty soon you start acting like trash."

"Yeah, I know what that's like."

"I never did anything worthwhile when I was alive. Drank like a fish, got into fights, screwed just about anyone who would let me. And the more my da told me what a fuck-up I was being, the more I proved him right."

"I didn't start acting like trash until I died," I told him. "And then I was a demon, so I threw myself into being the most spectacular piece of trash there'd ever been."

"When I died," Angel replied, "I just wanted to make them hurt. More than I'd been hurt when I was alive. Just to prove a point."

"What point, luv?"

"That everyone has a breaking point, and I'd never met mine."

"Never?"

"Not until I got cursed, anyways," he looked up at me finally, meeting my eyes with a tiny smile, though his eyes were still rimmed in red.

Chuckling, I said, "Aye, pet. That soul is a real bitch, innit? Broke me, that's for sure."

"For a few weeks," he scoffed. "It took me _years_ to pull myself together."

"Well that's 'cause you're a bleedin' ponce."

Angel laughed and bit my neck with blunt teeth, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to blur the lines between pain and pleasure and send a jolt of both throughout my body. "Bloody hell, luv," I yelped in surprise, making him chuckle again. "If you want a nip, just go ahead and take it." I tilted my head away to expose my neck further, hoping he would take me up on the offer and let go of some of the pain I could still feel spinning through him.

"Not really in the mood," he sulked, losing that little bit of mirth. "Let's just get some sleep."

"I'm not letting you just lie here all night, thinking about ancient history while I get my forty winks, Angel."

"Just let it be, Spike," he said, trying to pull away from me, but I wouldn't let him go.

"Ange," I said, reeling him back in,"if I'm _yours_, then you're _mine_, and I'm gonna take care of you."

"Take care of, how?"

"Just do somethin' so you can sleep. Dru used to like when I told her stories. Course they never had to make sense, so I don't know how well that would work with you."

"You don't have..."

"Could sing somethin' to you, pet," I offered. "Nothing poncy like Barry Manilow."

"I like Manilow," he pouted, and I almost laughed.

"No. Absolutely not! I ... care about you too much to let you poison your ears with that crap." I wouldn't say it. I wouldn't. Not out loud.

"Hey!" he cried, sitting up and looking down at me, completely missing how I'd almost slipped and told him everything. "You're the reason all my CDs are missing!"

"Took you this long to figure it out? I did that before we even slept together, you imbicile."

"I thought Harmony or someone borrowed them and forgot to bring them back."

"Nope," I shook my head, smiling him an evil grin. "I took them and set them all on fire up on the roof. T'was quite cathartic."

Angel put a hand around my throat, pressed down lightly, and growled, "You're going to go get me new ones tomorrow."

"No I'm not," I scoffed, shivering at how much he turned me on grabbing my neck like that. "I'll go get you somethin' good, if you want, but I sure as hell won't buy you Barry fuckin' Manilow. Despite the fact that I'm sleeping with you, I do have principles, you know."

"Argh," he growled in frustration, but then he kissed me roughly and there was a slight smile on his face when he pulled back, releasing my throat.

"Maybe I should just insult you all night, huh, pet?"

"Maybe I should kick you out of bed again," he warned, but his eyes were still smiling.

"But then," I pointed out, "you won't be waking up to all this." I gestured to my whole body.

"Small loss," he shrugged, lying back down and laughing when he caught my fist before it struck his gut.

"Ponce," I said, reclaiming my fist and lying down next to him.

"Prick," he replied, rolling his head over to look at me with a ghost of a smile.

"Wanker," I said, softening my voice so the insult sounded more like a pet name.

"Moron," Angel whispered turning his shoulders to face me and, kissing me gently on the lips.

"Poof," I kissed him.

"Jerk," he kissed me again.

"Control freak."

"Lazy bastard."

"Dick."

"Peroxide brain."

"Loser."

"Cocksucker."

"Fucker."

By this time, tongues were involved and Angel had my chest pressed against his, our hard cocks brushing and then grinding against one another. Instead of retaliating with another insult, Angel engulfed my mouth in his, kissing me desperately with harsh lips. "Can I just," he asked, pausing to kiss me again, "fuck you until I forget?"

"Forget what?"

"Everything but you," he whispered, hands grabbing at my hips roughly.

"Yeah, sure, luv," I agreed, squeezing his shoulders, digging in my nails as I opened my legs for him. "But don't you dare take me dry."

"Right," he said, patting around the bed. "Where the fuck did it go?" he asked, sitting up on his heels and searching the linens for the bottle of slick.

"Here," I said, sitting up and finding it wrapped it some sheets and pouring a good portion out on my hand before slathering it all over his cock.

"Ohh," he groaned, pushing me back down with his lips on mine, hands at the backs of my knees. Lifting and parting my legs, bending me in half, Angel pressed against my arsehole, giving just enough pressure to slip in. And then he pushed a little harder, splitting me apart with that big prick of his.

"Fuck," I groaned, pulling him closer by the back of the neck so I could kiss him and turn that pain into pleasure.

"Do you like being mine?" he asked through his rushing gasps as he started thrusting into me.

"O' course, luv," I replied, keeping his forehead with mine as we moved together. "I like having someone to belong to. Ahh. I like having someone to fuck me. I like sharing your bed. Oh, pet. I love the way you kiss me. Yes, there! There! I love the way your blood tastes."

"I love the way you never shut up," he growled, his voice sarcastic, but his eyes, just inches from mine, were soft with affection.

"So you _do_ like having me around," I panted.

"I love…burying myself in you," he nodded, biting his lip, breath storming through his nose and tickling my face. "I love…hurting you and the way you fight back instead of just taking it."

I'd noticed the way he paused every time he said 'love', like he was trying not to say something else. And so I turned it back on him."I love…the way you cut me and mark me as yours."

"I love…the way those scars stand out on your pale skin."

"I love…that stupid prick of yours, Ange," I admitted, finding this game of chicken we had going on a bit ridiculous. I knew he was trying to say he loved me and I knew I was trying to say it back. But neither of us wanted to give in and be the first to say it. It sure as hell wasn't going to be me. "Getting close, luv."

"I love…how you insult me and then take me in...just...like...this."

"I love…the way you find that bloody perfect spot every time."

Angel grunted, kissing me again hard, "I love the way you can make me forget everything. Everything but you, William."

The way he used my given name like that struck a chord and I couldn't hold back any longer. "Fuck! Bloody hell, luv! That's it!" Everything exploded at once. I saw stars and dug my fingers into the flesh of Angel's shoulders. Everything let go, everything except the words that were still fighting to leave my tongue. Those I held back.

"Yes! Spike, I love... Ohhh!" Angel clung to me with bruising force as he came, pumping into me, the unbelievably strong shudders of his cock fighting against how my body clamped down on him. He hadn't finished what he was going to say. He hadn't said it, the bloody ponce. He wouldn't say it.

"Oh, God," he moaned when he could speak again, pulling out but not letting me go as I lowered my legs, groaning at how stiff they'd gotten. When I opened my eyes and looked at him, Angel was still and his eyes were closed, his bulk slowly settling into me.

"If you fucking pass out on top of me, Peaches...," I warned him.

Slipping to the side, Angel put his head on my shoulder and mumbled, "How 'bout I pass out right here?"

"Yeah," I agreed, kissing his forehead. "Right there's good, pet."

Within a minute, Angel was breathing again in his sleep. Settling back and covering us with a blanket I found next to me, I kissed him again. "Love you, Angel," I whispered, realizing what a bloody moron I was being by falling in love with this stupid fucking vampire. "Love you." There was no response from the man sleeping in my arms.

* * *

_A/N: Oh, those two crazy vampires..._

_Anyways, this is the last chapter, which means it's also the last chance to review this story (hint, hint)._

_The continuing adventures of Angel and Spike will appear under another, as of yet, undecided title. It might be Trilliums and Black Thorns, unless someone comes up with something better. If you want spoilers in order to help pick out the title of a fic that includes the rest of Season 5, I can give them to you by PM. If you ask nicely.  
_

_And big thanks to all of you who read and review regularly. I'll keep writing for you guys, as long as you keep telling me you want more (which at least three or four of you do...)  
_


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